


Paper Tigers

by Jammy



Category: Night In The Woods
Genre: Abuse, Comfort, Family, Friendship, I have no idea what to tag this but yeah, M/M, Mystery, Other, Romance, if that's a thing here, songover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10770816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammy/pseuds/Jammy
Summary: It was hard growing up knowing that you don't really belong anywhere, just because you're rather seen as some delinquent or frowned upon because you love someone.There was one thing that Greggory Lee always knew though, sometimes home wasn't the place you slept every night. Sometimes, home is just a small room in the countryside in a old little farm house. Home was where he'd watch black and white movies on a small antique television. Home was calling your boyfriend at three in the morning to tell him that you love him and you both are going to survive this.





	Paper Tigers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [t3f3r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t3f3r/gifts).



> So I've been typing up this little mini series, exploring Gregg's relationship with Angus, and his uncle who owns the farm and just to explore a little more of his backstory. 
> 
> It's heavily based off of the song 'Paper Tigers' by Owl City and I think I planned this for there to be 4-ish chapters? It's going to start off before the events of Night in the Woods and then gradually turn to the events my sister and I spoke of after Night in the Woods happen. More canon characters will end up making appearances when the chapters progress.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like this, enjoy!

It was supposed to be a quiet night in a small little farm house on the countryside.

 

A young fox was out and about, walking in the tall grasses that lined the dirt road with the aid of the moonlight that hung above, a black leather jacket tied around his waist and his boots were shining thanks to the damp dew that coated the grass and ground. At least this time he was careful and made sure that he didn’t scare the barn animals so much since the electric conversion stuff on his bike made it so damn loud. Just to be safe, for the last half mile or so he walked alongside his bike and kept it propped up against the long wooden and wire fence that closed off his uncle’s small property. The house looked the same as it did six years ago, minus the bits of chipping paint coming from the side of the house where he’d bounce the baseball off of and a few more loose panels on the rooftop but, well, it honestly looked more like home than the house his folks owned back in Possum Springs. There was a small kitchen radio that was playing a local smooth jazz station by the time that he finally found an unlocked window and climbed through it, it took even more effort than usual to get through that window…ugh.

 

He didn’t go up the stairs slowly just for the sake of staying quiet…well…ok, sure, trying to make as little noise as possible was a good reason to take it slow and steady, sure, but also the lashings he had on his arms, back and legs made it extremely hard to walk up the stairs. His goal now was just trying to make it up to the room he stayed in the last year of middle school, and by the time he had slowly made it down the hallway and opened the softly creaking door he took a long look at the tiny room that transported him back into the past. The small twin size bed was still there with the faded and musty grandmother’s quilt, some boxes pushed to the walls on either side of the bed besides the vintage wooden drawer was the room’s only décor with a few ‘Sasquatch’ and ‘Mothman’ posters that hung on the pale walls. And on the night stand in front of the window was a dusty lamp, two vintage looking comic books, and a baseball and glove duo.

 

Home. At last.

 

The young fox tried to lower himself onto the bed as slowly as he could with a groan escaping his muzzle, the bruises on his body giving him aches as he sat down and the few lacerations on his arms and back made the very wounds sting under his shirt, threatening to open up and bleed again. After a few silent seconds he took it upon himself to kick his boots off and lay down in the bed, reaching his hand over his head so that he can grab the ball and glove to toss the small ancient leather object in the air so that it nearly hits the ceiling and then catch it with the much too small mitt in the other hand. Just like he did as a kid on those late nights when he can’t help but not fall asleep, he’d take the very moment to practice catching by himself and enjoy the light conversations of the crickets outside his window. Take the time in the almost dead of night to enjoy the crisp cool breeze that blew in from the crack in the window and the smooth jazz that always played on the radio coming from down stairs.

 

Even though the comic books weren’t his, neither was the bed, or the baseball and glove, he was told before that it had all belonged to his dad and uncle when they were kids but—it didn’t even matter, even with these ‘last minute’ hand-me-downs that were tossed into this room the very first night that he was brought here ‘to make it feel like a kid’s room’, this had all still felt more like a childhood than he ever had growing up in Possum Springs. This room brought him more comfort than all the other years full of memories that he had staying at home with his parents. That’s why he was there after all, this was the only place he can call home and the only place that could make him actually _**feel**_ safe.

 

“Greggory Lee.” a deep threatening groan came from the door once it had opened with a long sounding creak, though the young fox didn’t bother to stop tossing the toy into the air and catching it in his other hand, he remained silent so that he can still listen. “Do you have _any_ effing idea just how late it is?” finally he put the glove down on his chest and looked at the doorway to see the slightly older fox in the doorway wearing nothing but slacks—and he looked a pissed to be awake a few hours than his normal time.

 

“Sorry Howard.” Gregg said tossing the ball towards the ceiling again though before he can even catch the ball his uncle had already taken the few steps over and caught it just before it can reach his hand, when he looks up he can see the surprised expression that changes his uncle’s more pissed demeanor and watches as Howard quickly leans over to turn on the lamp. Gregg had to use his arm to shield the sudden brightness that threatened to blind him, yelping out a ‘hey!’ as he did so.

 

“Jeezus kid.” Howard mumbles in shock, it’s been a long while since his uncle was stunned into a silence like this. Well, actually, the last time he had seen him this bad was when he was spending his first week here with him, he told Gregg to change his clothes after he helped move some barrels of compost over to the fields and he saw it. The bruises and marks left by his father’s lashings, of course, the last time that he had seen all of that Gregg had no idea what else to do than cry, he was just a kid after all. He’s older now, all the tears he’s shed in desperate contemplation of why his father would do this to him—why his mother would just watch and not stick up for her own son—that’s all since passed. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it now. Though the horror itself still hasn’t left Howard’s face, Gregg is starting to realize just how long it’s been since he’s _seen_ his uncle, how long since they had last given each other a brief call over the phone to wish each other a happy birthday or a happy holiday, or how a sporting event at school went….and now he’s starting to feel a little embarrassed, sure his uncle had beaten his ass when he got those sheep killed on the highway but…it _was_ his fault. He’s learned from it. And more importantly: the punishment he got from Howard was nowhere as bad as the usual shit his dad ever did to him.

 

Whatever Howard was thinking right now it made him turn away with an aggravated sigh while he reached his hand up to rub the tired knot that was at the back of his neck, it confused Gregg, mostly because this was his dad’s kid brother. He couldn’t be that old, he was surely, what? In his mid twenties when he had last seen him. Howard sighs again a little more softly, “So your ol’ man’s still swinging at ya, then?”

 

“Yeah.” Gregg answers gesturing a bruised hand out so that he can get the baseball back, to his relief his uncle obliges though instead of tossing it into the air he spins it around his fingers and palm so he can quickly think of what else to say. “I just need a place to crash for a while, that’s all.”

 

“Y’know my house isn’t a charity, Gregg.”

 

“I know, I’ll do the barn chores in the morning.” Gregg didn’t take offense in the statement, he stayed with him for a whole year but he felt that during that year he got to know his uncle Howard pretty well. Especially because even after the whole year he had to live with him, Gregg decided on his own to come by every summer since then to visit. Howard didn’t like people, but he absolutely loved baseball, music, antique cars, black and white movies and overall, he wasn’t that bad of a guy. Sure, he had close to no idea on how to raise a kid, but that wasn’t his fault. Unlike his parents, Howard decided that not having any was the best decision and stayed with it. On Howard’s end he also felt like he got to know his nephew pretty well during the year he stayed in his home and right now the red flags were going off everywhere in his head because—Gregg wasn’t acting like Gregg. His nephew was tough, he loved to fight, but he was also always moving and grinning. He made snarky remarks to cheer himself up or piss someone off or get a group of people to laugh, and right now Gregg was quiet, reserved, and way too obedient. That’s why he hated his fucking brother, he always knew how to beat the personality out of his son.

 

“Alrigh’,” Howard grumbles lowering himself so that he sat at the foot of the musty bed, he sighs again, to hide the anxiousness with a more aggravated front and then looks up so he’s eye to eye with his nephew. “Firs’ ya don’t call. Then, ya think ya can just waltz in here and give me a damn heart attack at three in the mornin’. So I’ll bite: what’d you and your ol’ man argue about _this_ time?” Gregg’s face soured and he turned his attention to the small white leather ball he tried to spin on his fingers, though he knows for a fact that if he tries to pull it off as ‘nothing’ than...well…actually, he doesn’t know what will happen. Howard was the only family member that cared about him in his life, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lose him...but then again, he doesn’t really know what will happen if he _does_ tell him the truth.

 

All that he can do is just hope for the better.

 

“I’m gay.” Gregg finally states and every single muscle in his body tenses up when the last word falls out from his mouth, he’s ready to feel pain—a push, a punch, a fucking baseball bat to the side of the head or something among those lines but nothing comes. It’s a terrifying relief. The young fox opens his eyes when he realizes that, no he didn’t go blind or anything, his eyes just closed the moment he had blurted out the statement. Though as he looks across the bed to where his uncle sat he’s surprised to see that Howard doesn’t have that all too familiar look of disgust on his face that his father had, nor the look of horror that was on his mother’s when he told them the truth. Instead, his expression was puzzled.

 

“That’s it?”

 

“Oh no dude, it gets _**much**_ better.” Gregg complains waving the same bruised hand in the air in a few circles as if he’s just casually telling his uncle a story from a school trip, “Dad found out that there’s this guy I’m dating for like three years and he didn’t like that, so he said some stupid shit which I couldn’t bother to _not_ give a fuck about and...then he threatened him, like, threatened to hurt my boyfriend and shit...that didn’t settle with me.” Gregg looks down at his hands while tightening them into fists, the baseball he held still in his right hand. “He had no fucking right to threaten him—I just—I didn’t know what else to do y’know? I wasn’t going to let him off the hook after he just said that about my boyfriend. Of course, he spared no mercy, didn’t hold back his punches and shit like that. Mom left the room as usual and...well, I was staying with Angus and his brother in the meantime but I knew that dad would try to follow me. So I jumped on my bike and rode here.”

 

“Angus.” Howard mumbled nodding his head when the name became familiar, “Isn’t that the one kid with the messed up mom you told me about ages ago?” Gregg nodded his head, snorting out a small laugh and saying ‘yeah, that’s him’ though his uncle didn’t find anything funny about it. The older fox nodded his head shamefully and rubbed his face with his hands so that he can try to wrap his head around what was happening now. These kids...they should be doing kid things, like going to the movies and staying up late, playing video games or breaking into graveyards to drink themselves silly and yell shitty pop songs into the night. Not getting beaten down, not trying to survive day to day with the very ones who should be protecting them.

 

Oh goddamit, he just had to be a sympathetic guy didn’t he?

 

“How’s uh—your boyfriend takin’ all of this? Did ya call him yet?”

 

“Nah, I...I’ll call him later, I’m going to be staying away from him and school for the next few days. It’ll be safer for him and his brother if dad or mom doesn’t find out where they live.” Gregg mutters reaching his hands up so that he can put the glove back on the nightstand, the small ancient looking baseball he placed back inside the mitt because right now he’s just so exhausted. Honestly, it’d be a miracle if he can remember to get up in the morning and do the barn chores but, well, he kind of owes it to his uncle now. Not that he minds. At least his uncle was someone he can still trust.

 

“Alrigh’, alrigh’, alrigh’.” Howard mutters under his breath and he pushes himself off of the bed so he can finally stand up again and straighten his spine with a long relieved sounding stretch, “That’s alrigh’, if the school calls your folks or anything then have me call them back. I’ll tell them that I got ran over by my tractor or somethin’ and you had to keep an eye on me for a week or two ‘cause I’m a danger to myself and to society. Some shit like that. Schools still take family emergencies asa excuse right?” Gregg couldn’t help the smile that began to grow on his face as he answers ‘yeah, they should’, good ol’ Howard being the one to make up family emergencies. At least Howard is starting to look a little less tense now that they actually got on the same page and all, the older fox nods his head. “Ok, well, I’ll see ya in the morning Gregg. I’ll take a look at those hits ya got an’ we’ll disinfect them and all that before we get started on the chores. For now, you rest yourself up, kid.”

 

“Thanks Howard.” Gregg says sitting up in the bed just so he can take off the leather jacket from around his waist and toss it at the foot of his bed, he starts off to say something when his uncle turns and is starting to close the door behind him. Though when Howard stops from closing the door Gregg doesn’t know if he can manage to say it, as if he read his mind the older fox grins.

 

“Nice seein’ ya again, kid. Though, I kinda wished that I didn’ haveta see you like this.”

 

“Pfft, then it just wouldn’t be me then would it?” he manages to laugh and Howard shakes his head shamefully, “Still, I’m glad you’re still holding up ok, ol’ man.”

 

“Same to you, Gregg.” The young fox lets out a large yawn and sinks down into the faded sheets with the comfort of someone who hasn’t slept in a bed for weeks, taking the time to enjoy what would be annoying spring creaks that pressed against his back and the rattling of the bed frame when he rolls onto his side to rest his hand under the pillow and use the other to flip the switch on the old looking light. The pillow still smelled of an unfamiliar detergent and smoke, no doubt from his uncle smoking whenever he gets the chance when he’s here alone. The crawlspace just behind his bed was what led onto the rooftop, which was exactly what Howard needed when the leak in the roof returns when the heavy rains come. He heard the footsteps his uncle makes down the stairs stop and he heard the slight creaking and loud click of the master bedroom’s door downstairs, then the chirping from the crickets began again with the singing of the birds accompanying them. Gregg curls himself into a tighter ball, ignoring the stinging of the injuries on his back that grip to the fibers of his shirt so he can close his eyes and pretend that he’s twelve years old again. He’ll wake up in a couple hours to help Howard with his chores, they’ll share breakfast and he’ll go down the road to throw rocks at the neighbor’s scarecrow. Just like old times.

 

Just like home.


End file.
